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PuppyLuvr06’s Short Stories
This is where I (PuppyLuvr06) will be posting all of my Wings of Fire related short stories. And when I mean “short stories”, I basically mean one-shots. These can very anywhere from possible bits of an upcoming story prologue/epilogue/intro, to glimpses into a character’s backstory. Check back whenever you want to, coz even I don’t know when I’m gonna write another. Also please note that any naming similarities are coincidental, along with plot and such. I work hard on these, so please do not use any of the content without my permission! Please no editing unless adding categories I forgot about, so no spell-checking or anything. Mm’k? Possible violence warning as some involve death/bloodshed. Most language is either light/in the way Thorn says it, except not. ~Puddle’s Hatching~ View: Delta The room was warm, and seven eggs lay in the center. Only three MudWings were in the room—one to oversee the hatching, the eggs’ father, and their mother, Delta. She thought the room reminded her of her once-home, back before all of her siblings died and she threw herself into a mess to avenge her little brother’s death. But these eggs were going to be different. All MudWing blood, but this time they were going to have their parents with them. Not off doing other things, going about their lives like they didn’t exist. And they were going to grow up together, as a perfect family, without any of them dying as far as Delta was alive. She wasn’t going to let them. Yet hours passed from the scheduled hatching and still nothing happened. The biggest egg stayed still. The BigWings was not coming out of her egg. And neither were her siblings. Each egg stayed dormant. “Is something wrong with them?” Delta asked with a jolt of fear. This was supposed to be perfect. For them. Now none of them might survive. She already had a dragon in mind to blame, and the same name that killed her brother. The MudWing overseeing them poked a talon at the largest egg. “I don’t think they’re interested in hatching.” He said blandly. “Then what do we do?” Delta asked again. Of course the father sat there in the corner, staring at the eggs like he wished they’d just hatch so he could do something better. “Nothing.” The MudWing responded. “There is nothing we can do. For all we know, they aren’t ready to hatch yet.” Then an egg started moving, slightly. Not the biggest—the smallest. Weak scraping sounds came from the other side. Delta shot for it. The only thing going threw her mind was to help her dragonet hatch, even if it was the only one. “What are you—“ both the MudWings began at the same time as Delta helped the dragonet as she’d helped her siblings years ago. “Saving. My. Egg.” She answered simply. The tiny dragonet inside almost seemed to stop, and she started helping more. They won’t die. Too many already have. When there was a big enough gap for the dragonet to fit through, Delta reached a talon in and pulled the dragonet out. She carefully sat him back down and observed his sleepy body. He might’ve died if Delta wasn’t there to help him. If he was back at the Mud Kingdom, no one would’ve cared. “What are we going to name him?” Delta laid beside the dragonet and put a warm talon around him. “Name him?” The dragonet’s father said. “You shouldn’t even get attached to him! All the others are most likely dead. What do you think will happen to him one day? The same thing that happens to every dragon. Die.” Delta shot her mate a hard stare. “Put a frog in it and leave.” He shrugged and walked away. Delta went back to admiring her son. “He has a point,” the other MudWing said. “The dragonet may have lived today, but it doesn’t mean he won’t die soon.” “I think I have a name.” Delta said, ignoring him. It was the first thing that came to mind. She always thought she’d name the BigWings Lake. But this wasn’t the BigWings… “Puddle.” ~Otter’s Kill~ View: Seal Seal followed Otter through the tide pools that lead the way to their school. She should’ve known today would’ve been a bad day since the start, but she payed little mind to everyone else’s grumpy expressions as she gave them all friendly smiles. They’ve always done that when she was around; frown. And all she’d done was hug them. “What’s two times two?” Otter asked her, obviously pulling up mental flash cards or something. She gave him the first answer she thought of. “Fish!” Her brother sighed. “In a perfect world, Seal, in a perfect world. But this isn’t fooling around time, this is get-your-math-right-or-we’re-both-homeless time!” Seal stopped. “Why do you say that?” There was no reason for Otter to think that they weren’t going to have a home soon; Conch, the SeaWing who basically raised them, had only been gone for a day and battled some mean IceWings the day before. She wasn’t going to let that happen to them. “Because they’ll think we aren’t worth keeping around,” Otter replied simply. “If they don’t already.” He looked around at the other dragonets going to the school building, the adults walking them there, and the occasional dragon just staring as they walked by. “Have you heard anything from Storm?” Storm, Seal thought, imagining the handsome blue SeaWing. He was a messenger, and often times came over to Seal and Otter’s cave to tell them the latest letter-gossip. She liked him with his trickster attitude and playful personality. Not to mention, he seemed like the only dragon in their village who liked hugs. Or at least didn’t mind when Seal hugged him. She shook her head. “No, not yet.” She paused and continued, “maybe we’ll see him at school and ask him.” Storm was supposed to tell them what happened to Conch and if they should be worried. Seal wasn’t; but she knew Otter had his doubts. Like he has his doubts about everything. “And he better know.” Otter added. “I already don’t like him, and him not telling us the truth about Conch…well, that’s gonna make me hate him more.” Seal wanted to make a point how he always hated any dragon that looked at her the wrong—or right, for that matter—way. That’s why she had a secluded circle of friends, which were also his friends, because he wouldn’t let her do anything on her own. The same boring teacher greeted them in Aquatic from the underwater door as they slid into the ocean. Their school was large enough to host all of the dragons living in the village, yet the safest room from shark attacks was the nursery—where all of the eggs and tiny dragonets were. Has Storm come yet? Otter asked the next teacher they passed in the hallway. They looked at him confusedly and shook their head. Not that I know of. Then they went back to doing what they were doing, ignoring them while they wandered through the halls to their first class. Otter took a seat near the back, gesturing for Seal to sit beside him. She reluctantly sat beside him and watched the door. Storm was coming. He had to come. She truly didn’t know what she’d assume if he didn’t come. Probably that he was dead or assassinated. Seal took her mind off of that darker thought to stare at the front of the classroom. In some weird kind of washable jellyfish ink, numbers and letters were written on the board behind the teacher. One of them was two times two, times f which was probably supposed to represent how much fish there was. And then below it showed an unfinished problem of how to find out how much fish that stood for. Then a dragon burst into the room, bringing with him trails of blood floating in the water. It was Storm. The teacher looked up at him just as he rushed to the closest window and flashed his scales. Shark. What dragons were in the room started panicking, pulling up blankets and hiding under them. Some played dead, dropping to the ground but shaking so badly anyone could know they were still alive. Otter gave Storm a pointed glare before shoving Seal under a table. She’d already frozen up by the time the seaweed curtains opened up to reveal the shark. Otter quickly dashed over to the teacher’s side, who looked like they were torn between killing the beast that entered their classroom or running away and saving only themselves. Seal just watched the shark swim between the desks, knocking over them in its wake. She eyed the door. If I can get a stronger teacher, she thought. Or get Otter to somehow get one without using Aquatic and alerting the shark… maybe they could kill it. She shifted, giving the shark her attention. Too late to take it back now. She thought as she dove for the door, picking up a quill and tossing it at the shark as hard as she could. She didn’t realize how close the shark was to her before she saw flashes against the walls, and a horribly crashing noise behind her. Seal turned around to see Otter vigorously claw at the shark. Die, you mo— and that’s when Seal looked down at the ground instead of at her brother’s flashing scales. Yep, she was not going to see the end of that sentence. Only a moment later the shark came to a complete stop, and its body became limp. It was dead. And Otter, of all the dragons in Pyrrhia, had killed it. But Seal knew one thing, staring at her brother as he asked for the teacher to help him carry the body to shore. She wasn’t going to do anything that stupid again. Ever. After being that close to dying…if it weren’t for Otter, half of the school might’ve very well been killed. I seriously messed up, haven’t I? Storm said in Aquatic, giving Seal an apologetic look. Sorry, it’s my fault. It’s okay, Seal said back, glancing over at her brother. But I don’t think that puts you any further on Otter’s ‘I’m okay with you around me’ list… ~Visit From Mother~ View: Kori (cursing warning: I kinda ''broke Kori, so she gets really emotional and curse-y. Mainly ‘stupid’ and Thorn-like curses, though. But on the up side, you get to learn more about Kori! Which means the cursing parts too, sooo....uh, yeah. Beware) Kori watched as the sun set across the desert horizon, coloring the sky to tell the world another day was done. She’d survived another day in this deserted, moon-forsaking wasteland of a desert. In short, Kori hated it here. It was hot, every dragon seemed to try to hit on her, and she couldn’t even freeze them to death because it was so hot. But Frostbite was safe from Glacier, at least for now. She wasn’t sure how safe he was from himself, though; she saw the way he looked after killing…anything. Whether hybrid or their dinner. Ravenous was one word Kori would use to describe it. Bloodthirsty was another. And she knew that if the problem wasn’t dealt with soon, her own blood would be on his talons, like so many other hybrids’. ''I have to stop worrying about him, Kori thought, getting up from her spot and walking over to their tent. Frostie—He’s strong enough to take care of himself. Hopefully. She remembered the day he killed those two polar bears, then feasted with the queen. That was also the worst day of her life—which was saying something, actually—after she realized he’d told the queen about her. Then dragons died, and they got into the loop that they were in now. Though she had to admit, she hated it whenever Frostbite left for the Ice Kingdom. She’d never know if he was just staying late or Glacier had killed him until he got back again. Kori settled into her sheets and closed her eyes, half paying attention in case the door opened up. And who the dragon who opened it was. Nothing happened, and she soon fell asleep. … Kori wandered through an endless maze, shouting the names of the dragons she knew. “Frostbite? D? Father? Mother?” The short list was repeated hundreds of times, Kori’s pace picking up with each name. She didn’t know why she was so distressed, only that she was and needed to get to the end of this maze. Voices filled up the empty space between her and the hedge walls around her. It was…her voice, voices of other dragons who’d talked to her. Dragons she remembered the faces of if she thought hard enough, but never the names. And some that stood out among the haunting crowd. “You mean nothing to me. Neither of you do. If only your mothers were smart enough to realize that, too. Then you’d both be dead, as you should.” “She’s not my mother. She’s his. My mother died yesterday in the battle.” “Kori, don’t let them kill you…let them see who you really are.” And the most painful reminder that kept coming back: “Everyone’s dead. Everyone but Frostbite, but he’s not even himself anymore. Glacier and this dumb, moon-forsaking war made sure I’d have nothing left to come back to. It’s just me. In the world of dragons who want me dead.” A dragon appeared in front of her, and Kori stepped dead in her tracks. She was a SeaWing. She was pretty. She was scarred from the battle that killed her. She was Conch. “M-Mother?” Somehow Kori was surprised. How was she surprised? This was a moon-forsaking dream, for moons’ sake! She’d had dreams before where Hail was actually nice to every dragon he saw before! This should be normal! Still, she was torn between waking her self up and throwing herself at the figure of her dead mother. Conch stepped closer, making the decision for her. She could feel her mother’s wings brushing over. “You’re dead.” Kori said, keeping her eyes on her talons. “And all anyone could do was not pay attention. Good dragons die, you told me… But you could’ve never prepared me to realize it was true.” “No, I couldn’t have,” Conch replied. That was new. Dream-dragons never talked back to her before. Not without relating words they’d said in the past. “My biggest regret…would’ve been letting your father keep you and pretending like nothing happened.” Her wings were completely around Kori now, trapping her in a loving embrace. This was too much like the real Conch, before she died. Caring, loving, ready to lie to make you feel better. Kori pushed the older dragon aside, pretending to ignore the tears threatening to show her weakness. “No,” she said, “your biggest mistake was staying with Hail. Then you’d still be alive, I wouldn’t exist, and Hail’d probably be a tiny bit less of a moon-forsaking jerk to everyone else.” “But what about your friend?” Conch asked gently, stepping a bit closer. Kori growled to say she didn’t want the dragon any closer to her. She’d bothered to leave Kori’s life, the least she could do was leave her dreams, too. “Then he would still be in the Ice Palace,” Kori replied bitterly. “Safe, sound, and happy. Without a half-sister, who, with every moment spends with him, only succeeds in getting him in more trouble! That’s what would’ve happened to Frostie! He’d be the perfect dragon everyone loves, with nothing to scratch his freaking title!” She unfolded her own wings. Guess it was time to see where the dream wall was. Hopefully far from the figure of Conch, frowning and slowly fading into mist. “Kori… I’m dead, truly…” She said. “So?!? You’ve been dead for the last moon-forsaking two years!” Kori cried back. “And if you weren’t, I’d be, so it doesn’t matter! Nothing would be different! No one cares either way! We’re just the stupid pegs that could stupidly die for all the stupid queen cared because she only stupidly keeps our stupidness because we could give her what she wants!” Conch looked generally hurt. “What would the queen want from me?” She asked reasonably. “What does Glacier want from you?” Kori looked her mother straight in the eye. “Those two dragons you introduced me to, that’s what! And I’ll tell you what moon-forsaking Glacier wants from me. She wants the one thing I’d rather kill than give to her! The freaking animus, she plans to use the same way the SeaWings use theirs!” She was done. Kori burst into the sky, leaving Conch alone. Like she should be. “So just leave me be. Just let me fix the moon-forsaking mess I stupidly created.” A second later, Kori burst up from her arrangement of blankets. Frostbite sat in front of her, expression a mix of worry and curiosity. “Are you all right?” He asked. “You were talking in your sleep, crying…and cursing. Lots of cursing. And I didn’t know—“ Kori just pulled her half-brother closer, crying into his scales. She didn’t know why, she just did. Frostbite returned it by wrapping his wings around her and muttering calming words. (Fun fact: “D” is what Kori calls her other friend, Diamond. They never saw each other after Kori left.) ~Special~ View: Angler The waves lapped upon her talons, and the pale moon gave her purple scales a otherworldly glow. One wing was wrapped around their son, holding him close in the dark and cold night. Her tail brushed against an egg, silvery blue with little cracks around it. “I don’t want to do this, Angler,” she said softly. “What’s truly going to happen to our dragonets once we leave? There’s no certainty they’ll except them…” Angler sat beside his wife; he could only hope they’d be doing the right thing. “Conch will take care of them. My sister isn’t one for leaving young dragonets alone.” She rested her head on Angler’s shoulder, sighing lightly. “She has a dragonet of her own to look after. Our children could just die at a shark’s will, and no one would bother a glance.” “Vaquita, don’t think that way.” Angler whispered to her. “Our dragonets are safe here.” He could see the glassy reflection on her eyes as tears threatened to flow. Vaquita pulled their dragonet closer, and the little SeaWing squeaked in loving reply. “They’re going to hate them,” Vaquita reminded him, “They’re going to want them dead. There’s nothing we can do to stop that. Not leaving. Not staying… They only care that we’re dead. Because we ‘betrayed’ them, the queen, and all those other dragons.” “Let them hate them, if it’s the way they want to be.” Angler replied. “One day they might find their error and correct it. At least we can hope.” He looked over to see a tear make its way down Vaquita’s face. “Don’t cry, my dear. Soon my brother will come and keep watch until Conch comes.” “What if they don’t come?” Vaquita asked simply. The little dragonet tucked between them looked up at his sad mother and leaned on her, in an effort to make her happy. She only choked on the tears. “Wow, you are so trusting in my dragonet-sitting abilities.” A new voice said, accompanied by the flapping of wings and a heavy body landing on the ground. His tone was shady and deep, exactly what Angler expected from his brother. Vaquita turned around quickly and glared at him. She glared pointedly at the SeaWing almost too dark to be seen. “Nice to see you too, Ray.” She returned plainly. Angler got up to address his brother. He got close enough so then Vaquita couldn’t hear him. “Tell none of this to anyone, you hear me? I’m not one to claw out throats—but for you I’ll make an exception.” Ray looked straight into the ocean, avoiding Angler’s and Vaquita’s gazes. “I told Midnight I was leaving and tucked Illusion in. Prophetseeker can go suck a snail, for all I care.” “Good,” Angler stepped away from his brother, gesturing the little dragonet by Vaquita to come over. Vaquita guided him over, sending her own warnings in her glare. She pushed the egg closer with her tail. Ray dipped down to examine the dragonet. “Huh. You two make some pretty handsome dragonets, if I must say so myself.” He smiled down at the dragonet nearly the same colors as him, reversing more green than blue to more blue than green. “He’s Otter,” Vaquita said calmly. “This one”—she waved her wing over the egg—“is Seal. Remember that, you big trout, and get them right!” “Easy,” Ray replied. He flicked the dragonet with one of his wings. “This handsome little Ray Junior is Otter.” He glanced over at the egg. “That’s either Vaquita, Conch, or Angler Junior. Or maybe Ray Junior the Second.” “And her name is..?” Vaquita asked, raising an eyebrow as she awaited an answer. “Seal.” Ray answered with a shrug. “Don’t worry you’re pretty little head, Vaq. I can handle them.” He reached out to pick up Otter. “I’ve dealt with animu—“ He stopped once he picked up the dragonet. “Is something wrong?” Angler asked, curious. He hoped there wasn’t. They needed to leave, now, before Vaquita changed her mind or the villagers came after them. Ray sat Otter back down and gave Vaquita a sideways glance. “Would you, by any chance, be related to the royal family? Coral? Shark? …Fathom? Any of them?” Vaquita’s expression turned to confusion. “No..? Why do you ask?” “Nothing special,” Ray said. “I thought that maybe if you were, you could get a servant or something to raise these kids.” Then he gave her that smile. The “I’m totally lying and I’m trying to win you over with my charming-ness” smile, something only Angler and Conch new what it was. “Vaquita, get your things.” Angler said, half glancing to his wife. “Start swimming. I’ll catch up.” Vaquita nodded and ran off to the cave. He watched her grab their bag of things, whisper a few words to Otter and the egg, then hesitate right at the edge of the water. “You better be right beside me.” She told Angler. “You’re not sending me away again.” Then she slipped into the water. Angler brought his attention back to his brother. “''What''?” He asked coldly. Ray looked at him, surprised. “No need to be rude.” Ray replied. “But…you’re not gonna like it…” “''Tell me''.” Angler insisted. “Nothing is more important than my dragonets. There’s something I and Vaquita don’t know that you do, and I want to know. So tell me. Now.” Ray looked over at the dragonet. “They—at least him—are…special.” “Special, how?” “Moons, I thought you were on a time limit. What to you think, O Mighty Savengerbrain? The same thing Orca was! What Fathom was! Oh, and let me give you another— what Albatross was!” Ray paused. “You’re lucky Bayside is so forgotten that they don’t do the dragonet animus testing, is all I’m saying.” Angler was silent. “W-what?” He looked unbelievably at the dragonet. “Yeah, I’m starting to re-think who we’re related to, too.” Ray said. He flicked his wing at Angler. “Now go, before Vaq starts thinking you’ve ditched her. I’ll tell Conch to keep a lookout for any signs, just in case.” Angler nodded and started towards the water. He could barely here his brother’s final words to him. “And moons, don’t tell the lady! She’s got enough to worry about!” (This is a story prologue for this story, link soon) ~MudWing Massacre~ View: Bog (Wow, a lot of these short stories involve dragons dying/dead dragons!) Queen Oasis had died nearly two years ago, and every tribe was tense while they decided which sister to join. The MudWings had sided with Blister, though even that didn’t seem to stick very well. Bog just stayed curled up with his sibs, pleasantly sleeping the night away without a care at all. After all, they weren’t at war. They weren’t fighting. There was no way to upset their happiness, not even in the slightest. At least, that’s what he thought. Lake shifted at the bottom of their pile, knocking Dragonfly off. “Hey! Watch it!” She growled. Her attention turned to the other dragon on the bottom, their BigWings. “Deltaaaa, Lake pushed me off the pile!” Bog was always amazed at how she could go from snappy to whiny so quickly. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” Delta replied sleepily. “Climb back up and go back to sleep.” “Yes. Sleep. Sleep equals less cranky.” The youngest, Tortoise, said from the top of the pile. “Fiiiiiiiine.” Dragonfly climbed back up the pile, curling up before her snoring could be heard again. Bog started to hear the sleep-muttering and snoring of all of his siblings moments later, all fast asleep and visiting whatever lands they dreamed. Except for Delta, who stayed oddly silent and very not still. She kept shifting her tail or her wing, almost knocking Bog over each time. “What’s bothering you, Del?” He asked quietly to his oldest sister. Delta stayed quiet for a moment. “Nothing. Just thinking.” “That’s a lie, Del, we both know that.” Bog told her. “And, no offense, but you suck at lying. But your our BigWings, which means you do what’s best for us. Now tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” “I just have this feeling…something really, really bad is going to happen soon.” Delta replied. “Like, killing bad.” Bog dared to chuckle. “We’re in a middle of a cold war, verging on the edge of the real deal. Of course you’re thinking there’s gonna be killing and deaths. It’s okay. With an awesome BigWings like you, there’s nothing that can go wrong!” “Except, oh, I don’t know, everything.” Bog was failing at cheering her up. Big time. He might even be making it worse. “Would you like me to prove it to you?” Bog asked, hoping he wasn’t biting off more than he could chew. The room was completely quiet for a moment. The only thing that dared to break that silence was a cricket, calling for his mate in the darkness of the night. Delta seemed to have accepted his request, gently rolling out of the pile. Right before Bog fell, he secured Tortoise to then she wouldn’t fall too, carefully setting her on top of Dragonfly. Lake mumbled some dumb thing in his sleep, but Bog ignored him. “Fine. Show me what you’re planning.” Delta said, leading him out of their mound and out into the marshy riverside of the Mud Kingdom. Bog had to figure out what he should do. Queen Moorhen being happy with her sibs? No, most likely everyone was asleep by now. He couldn’t think of anything. So he just sat down, gesturing for Delta to sit beside him. He picked up one of the reeds. “Sis, I love you,” he began. “And I know it’s your job, but you need to stop worrying.” He handed the reed to her. “Take this reed for example. It just goes with the flow, whether that flow is the wind or water.” Delta smuggled a laugh. “Have you been taking metaphor lessons from Tortoise or something?” She got closer to him, setting a wing over his. “Nonetheless, thank you little broth—“ Then she stopped, squinting out into the shadows ahead of them. “Do you see that?” She asked, pointing. Bog look in that direction, but saw nothing. Delta got up and started walking towards it. Bog could either stay here, or follow her. He chose to follow her; he’d follow her until the end. And as they got closer, he could see more clearly who it was. It was another dragon, though much darker than either Bog or Delta— so dark they almost blended in with the darkness. It couldn’t be a SeaWing; there’d be spots glowing. SandWings didn’t come that dark. So whoever they were, they were not a friend nor an ally. “Who are you?” Delta called bravely to the figure. Getting closer, still, Bog could see they weren’t built like any tribe he’d seen before. This dragon was thin and wiry, with glimmering stars under their wings. It was shockingly beautiful, amazing, and terrifying at the same time. Somehow Bog got himself imagining a dragon so big he could eat them alive. And then he realized the dragon was a lot bigger than them—bigger than Delta. “No one special,” the dragon said in a dark and twisted tone. Maybe that was just his voice. “To you pathetic MudWings, anyway.” He only looked at his talons, as if checking to see how shiny they are with a grin on his face. “Then why are you here?” Now Delta seemed to be getting territorial. Bog couldn’t blame her, with this mysterious figure being so close to their siblings. “Just finishing up a few…errands.” The figure grinned, shining light on an odd teardrop scale at the edge of his eye. Another figure slipped out from behind him. Two figures. Both of which Bog knew the tribes to. They were a SeaWing and SandWing. The SeaWing darted for behind them, almost as dark as the figure he was once behind. Bog tried to pin him down, but missed. “Del—!” He cried, but Delta was already on it. She pinned down the shiny SandWing and hissed, nodding Bog off to go catch the SeaWing. That’s when a stab of terror ran through Bog, once he realized where the SeaWing was headed. Right were they came out from. Where their siblings were. Bog ran as quickly as he could to catch up. They weren’t that far away. “Dragonfly! Lake! Tortoise!” He called to his sleeping siblings. “WAKE UP!” He almost got to their mound when the SeaWing spoke, tripping him. “Say goodbye to your beloved siblings,” he said, deep and shady. “Because you’re coming with us tonight.” Then he slipped into the mound. “No!” Delta cried. Bog looked over at her apologetically; if he hadn’t brought her outside, leaving their siblings alone… The high scream of Tortoise sounded from the mound. Bog close his eyes, unable to bear the heartbroken expression of his BigWings. “What the—“ and there went Dragonfly. Bog heard the crash of both of their bodies when they hit the ground. There was no sound from Lake. At least, not that Bog heard. He only heard the grunt of the SeaWing as he walked back out, grabbing Bog’s shoulders and digging his talons into his flesh. “You’re coming with us,” the SeaWing whispered threateningly into his ear. “Or else we kill your sister, too.” Bog only opened his eyes to see the terror on Delta’s face, even though he noted the almost same expression on the SandWing she had pinned down. Delta shook her head. He knew what she was trying to say. “Don’t worry about me, save yourself.” But Bog was too stupid to agree with his BigWings now. “Let. My sister. Go.” Bog said firmly. “Bog, you scavengerbrain!” Delta cried. “Go! Your life is more important than mine! Just go!” Bog could see the glassy reflection in her eyes. He only shook his head, looking straight past her at the dark dragon figure. “Let Delta go, now,” He confirmed. “And I’ll be your slave…servant…murderer… Whatever the moons you have planned for me!” Bog looked over at Delta one less time. “It’s my fault our siblings are dead. The least I could do is stop you from joining them.” “Idiot, idiot, idiot! You’re going to die! You big, stupid, snails-for-brains, scavenger-head!” Delta yelled. Bog looked down again, not wanting to look at his sister. The SandWing wiggled out from underneath and went to stand beside her master. “You can go,” she said calmly to Delta, even though Bog could tell there was fear in her tone. “I’d really like to not add another dragon to the list killed today.” “Oh, but I’d be happy to.” The dark dragon behind her said, grin growing wider. Delta gave Bog one last “you idiot” look before running off into the reeds. Bog only hoped she’d stay away. “By the way,” the dark dragon said casually. “I’m Prophetseeker, and you work for me now. These two idiots are Celeste and Ray, your coworkers.” He slit his eyes, making Bog feel like he was seeing into his soul. “And I’ll be the first to tell you, my punishments are very harsh…and bloody.” Bog didn’t know what mess he was getting in to, but he could only hope he was doing it for the best. ~Living Miracle~ POV: Deer Birds sung their morning songs, greeting Deer as she got up from her mat. A few days ago, she turned ten. Today was the day her uncle was going to teach her about special ingredients in healing—items that weren’t herbs, but still helped. She was excited to learn about it, and all but bounded out of her room after grabbing her pouch. “Fern, please stop crying.” It was Deer’s uncle. She paused mid-step, wanting to listen to this conversation a bit more. That’s when she noticed the sobs of her mother. “There’s millions of reasons I could tell you why. Please.” “B-but—“ her mother said shakily, though cutting herself off to cry some more. “She’s all we have…and…we’re going to lose her so soon…” “Sis—“ “She’s just a kid!” Deer’s mother cried. “We can be safe, and away from the war…but death still follows us. You’re a healer; so find a cure! Save her! Save me from this heartbreak, please, little brother! It’s too much to bare alone…” “You’re not alone, dearest.” Deer’s father said, and she assumed he wrapped a wing around his wife. “There’s a whole village out there who loves her as much as we do. And I swear, if I knew there something somewhere, I would go there and retrieve it. But your brother’s right; there’s nothing we can do.” Deer stepped out from the other side of the wall. “Mom..? Dad..? Uncle..?” The RainWing and the two MudWings looked at her. Her mother choked on her tears, sadness clear in her bronze eyes. “What’s going on..?” “Deer…our only living child…” Her mother smiled weakly, though tears still flowed down her cheeks. “There’s something we’ve been keeping from you for a few years now. Come, sit beside me.” The hybrid nodded, and carefully made her way to sit beside her mother. She was scared; she wasn’t even sure she wanted to know why her mother was so upset. But she waited for the answer, blankly noticing the talon her uncle put on her shoulder. It didn’t make her feel confident. It only made her more afraid. “When you hatched,” her mother began, looking up at the ceiling instead of at her daughter. “Bits of your egg was…different. Dark, obsidian black, even. Soft to the touch. It never became thinner like the rest of the egg did. We knew it was special somehow…and three years ago, right after you turned seven, we found out it was a warning. A warning that—that you’re going to die. Soon…so soon…” Deer stood there. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. She barely even recognized there was a floor underneath her now, letting her mind take over all else. “H-how soon?” “I’m giving you a few months; to say goodbye.” Her uncle replied, clearly trying to hide his own want to burst into tears. “And then…you’ll leave us forever.” She nodded. A few months, Deer repeated in her mind. Then I learn what being dead is like… She felt her mother wrap a wing around her, holding her close in an embrace. Then her father. But she heard the steps of her uncle as he got up and walked to the door. “Training isn’t cancelled.” He reminded her. “Come to the healer’s hut when you’re ready.” … Deer landed gracefully near the edge of Possibility. She breathed in the smell of the mountain-desert area, only to cough at the clear smell of dragon fire. Then making sure her cloak was tied firmly around her, so then she didn’t stand out from the masses, the hybrid joined the busy mid-afternoon current of the bustling town. Dragons cursed at her for being slow or for bumping into them, and she returned it with only a “sorry” before quickly trying to get as far away from the dragon as possible. This wasn’t her favorite town; but it was the only way she could see her favorite uncle. When she reached the MudWing’s house, she knocked firmly. “I’m here.” “Deer! Perfect timing,” her uncle smiled at her when he opened the door, gesturing for her to come inside. “The tea is nearly finished.” He sat down in front of a small fire pit. A fire was burning inside it, and on top sat a little tray with two cups made of river stone. A moment later, he whacked the fire out with his thick tail and handed one of the cups to Deer. She sat down and took it, nodding her thanks. “You know, uncle,” Deer began, smiling into the dark green mixture. “I turned fifteen a few months ago. You lost your bet with Dad. Now you gotta give him an anaconda.” “What?” Her uncle asked, looking ready to protest. She giggled. “I never agreed to that! I agreed to get him a king cobra, not an anaconda. I’m not going to the Rainforest; I agreed to something that I could catch here and mail back to him. Tell him I said that.” “I will,” Deer agreed. Her uncle paused. “Deer, might I tell you something?” Deer nodded, taking a sip of her tea. She wondered if she should be more worried, but she doubted it. “Dragons die. Some die young. Some die old. Some…up and leave without being able so say goodbye. But, Deer, you’re special. You are this war-torn world’s living miracle for the sick, and the hopeless. You’re giving dragons you don’t even know the hope to keep fighting. I think I’ve seen more dragons recover in the past three years than I have ever seen in my entire life. I think…it’s because of you. So, I guess I’m thanking you. So many dragons have realized there’s hope for the lost. One day every clinic in Pyrrhia might whisper your name, and the list of miracles you’ve tied to them. I like being realistic—maybe that’s why I keep on losing bets with your father—so you’ve always just astounded me.” He chuckled. “If only I could take credit for that.” Deer smiled. It was nice knowing she was slowly becoming something of a roll model for the hopeless. She tried to show her best every time she visited her uncle that she never understood why, though. Quite frankly, only about once a year had she ever gotten too drowsy to even get up. Most of the time, she assumed they were wrong to think that she was sick at all. But she had learned many things the past five years. One of the ones that was drilled into her head since she was little…was that the solider shouldn’t cry; but instead keep fighting until there was nothing left to fight for. After all, her mother had sung it to her almost every night until she turned seven. “Fern’s doing alright, I presume?” Her uncle asked. Deer nodded. “How’s everything else going at the village?” Then she told her uncle all about the past few months; the time between when she visited him last. They shared healer talk and exchanged experimental medicine ingredient lists with each other, before Deer decided it was time to go. Maybe she’d stop by that little flower place, to get some flowers for her mother. That sounded like a nice idea. (Yes; this is not the first time Deer’s uncle has been awfully doubtful of her surviving. I’m thinking that he’s just one of those dragons that literally does not believe in miracles.)Category:Fanfictions Category:Genre (Short Story) Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Content (PuppyLuvr06)